


White Masquerade

by TripeWriter



Category: RWBY
Genre: F/F, Freezerburn - Freeform, Hinted Polyamory, Monochrome, White Rose - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-01-22
Updated: 2014-01-22
Packaged: 2018-01-09 12:53:49
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,164
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1146228
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TripeWriter/pseuds/TripeWriter
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Behind locked doors, Weiss was three different things to three different people.</p>
<p>And one thing to all of them, together.</p>
            </blockquote>





	White Masquerade

**Author's Note:**

> I wrote this as something of a challenge to get done in two hours or less and to get the writing juices flowing. Structure is a bit iffy. I'll try to avoid killing off punctuations again when it's not appropriate.

To Ruby, Weiss was a princess, a dainty thing to be pampered and spoiled and worshipped. While she would never dare to treat her in that way from outside of their moments together, the sentiment revealed itself in full force in the moonlit evenings where the younger girl's kisses and quiet gazes bordered on reverent. Weiss was used to pampering, of course, and had grown to feel uncomfortable at the usual gesture of subservience by servants and maids, but with Ruby it was a guilty pleasure between unlikely equals. In the quiet of night, Ruby adored her, put her first, kissed her in all the right places that made her gaze flutter against her will. Ruby gave and gave and it drove her mad, at times, guilt piling every instant Weiss was given no room to reciprocate, every tingle of her skin as it was met with warm and generous lips. _No, Weiss, let me_ , she always said, in every gesture and every smile and Weiss would scowl sometimes but she couldn't say no because who could say 'no' to that damned girl? More than anything, Weiss wanted to return the gesture, but Ruby seemed more content to be a giver, but the night would not be over until Weiss was all but certain they were both in bliss.

To Blake, Weiss was prey, a mousy little thing to be played with and teased. Weiss put on her show of defiance, her scowl visible even in the dark, muscles rigid and unyielding beneath her pale skin, but Blake always knew, somehow, just how to toy with her, to draw her into wanting and into shuddering until she yielded. Piercing feline eyes would roam her when they were mere inches apart, pinpricks dancing over her skin from those lurid gazes, and half of her scraemed defiance and the other screamed desire and Blake's ears seemed to perk as though she could hear the silent pleading and the faunus girl would smile that catty, triumphant smile and it took all restraint not to pull the girl by her hair and bury Weiss's tongue in that insufferable mouth. And what a mouth, Weiss would often think fleetingly, when sharp teeth would nip and tease at her joints and curves like an animal playing and toying with food, a gesture that heralded the inevitable feast she would become for Blake's waiting, hungry mouth. Blake loved it when Weiss  _squeaked,_ (something Weiss never thought she'd ever do). It only seemed appropriate. 

To Yang, Weiss was wild release, the same way Yang was to her. They shared little illusion as to the others' fortitude. Weiss could take her, the biting, the gnawing, the swollen lips and rough fondles and feverish moans into the taller girl's bruised neck. Vulgar words were met with cutting retorts each, challenging, domineering, a war of heated flesh and straining bedsprings. Yang was flesh and muscle in equal parts, soft where Weiss could grope, and firm where she could grip. Sweat would outline every rippling contour as it bucked against (sometimes beneath, sometimes above) her, though often Weiss had little time to observe with leisure when she writhed and clawed at the taller girl's pronounced shoulderblades until the blonde was uttering obscenities into her skin. Yang grinned a _lot_ , goading and infuriatingly, and it was in those moments that Weiss could have the opportunity to wipe it off the smug girl's beautiful face (it didn't always work, but the effort was satisfying all the same). They were careful never to go too far, of course, even as their passions licked into every pore like wildfire (though there was the time Yang had scorched a pillow into cinders unintentionally (on another note, Weiss was careful not to resort to hair pulling)). 

 

* * *

 

_'Last night was great. Sorry I couldn't stay to cuddle. Had to jet on some urgent business. I left you some bacon and eggs the way you like 'em. - Y'_

Weiss folded the note with a small smile and a shake of her head (though careful not to aggravate some of the bruising leftover the night before). She regarded the simple breakfast at her bedside table, grateful for the effort considering how last night's events had worked up an appetite. Normally she'd bemoan Yang's lack of tact, but she's willing to forgive the blonde's transgression in favor of breakfast, if for the moment only. She'd went through the effort of poaching the egg as Weiss preferred, after all, so the thought was appreciated.

The door to her room opened to reveal Blake, newspaper and coffee in hand, her gaze amused and knowing as she entered and chimed her greeting. "Good morning, Weiss."

"Speak for yourself," Weiss gruffed slightly as she tried to stretch out the kinks in her joints, nevermind the fact that much of her skin stung as it slid against the fabric of the bedsheets that otherwise hid most of her nude form-- a drawback to evenings with Yang, as the two were often too exhausted to bother cleaning up and made for uncomfortably sore and humid mornings. 

"You looked like you enjoyed yourself, in any case," Blake teased, eyeing the faint shades of red that lines the side of Weiss's neck and shoulders with a trifling smile as she settled down to the side of her Weiss's bed, coffee (Ruby's blend, she'd learned to identify by the smell and abundance of cream) and newspaper placed onto the bedside table as per the heiress's preference. 

Weiss merely huffed as she gratefully took a gentle sip of her brew. "Save it for your graphic smut novels, Blake." 

Blake chuckled at the jab. "Yang said she's pretty sorry for bailing. She'll make it up to you later."

"If she's really that sorry, she'd apologize in person," Weiss retorted, though after taking a savory bite of the well-cooked bacon. Say what she will of Yang, the woman did know how to cook. 

"I think you did a good enough number on her yourself, in any case," Blake joked as she looked aside. "She was complaining how you treated her back like a 'personal scratching post' all night."

Weiss said nothing, instead trying to fight back a small blush (and maybe a triumphant little smile) whilst chewing through a mouthful of poached egg. 

"Anyways, Ruby has a warm bath running for you when you're done eating," Blake rose and cast her one last, catty smile. "And let me just say, you need one. It doesn't take a faunus nose to know what you've been up to all night."

"Pervert," Weiss scowled at her, though Blake merely smiled it off knowingly as she retreated from the room.

To Weiss, she wasn't sure how or why she'd ever come to love them as much as she had and to have ever even thought to agree to the arrangement that they shared. It was far from perfect, but she couldn't imagine being any much happier if it were any other way.


End file.
